


another year's over (snow starts to fall)

by bacondoughnut



Category: Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Garfield Logan is a Ray of Sunshine, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Gets A Hug, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Loneliness, Past Child Abuse, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU), Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:40:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27923926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bacondoughnut/pseuds/bacondoughnut
Summary: They should've known it would take something like fear toxin to get Jason to come back to the tower for Christmas.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 143





	another year's over (snow starts to fall)

**Author's Note:**

> fic title from dallon weekes's 'please don't jump (it's christmas)'

The kids are throwing up some last minute additions to the decorations and squabbling over Christmas playlists. He and Kory are supervising from the kitchen, while he tries to explain to her the significance of putting a star on top of the tree. Trouble is, he's not totally sure _why_ people put stars on top of the tree, now she's asked.

"They're just," Dick flounders, gesturing vaguely towards the tree. "Pretty?"

Kory scoffs. "That's it?"

"Yeah, I guess we didn't have the most traditional of holidays when I was a kid," he says, sipping at a glass of eggnog Rose had been a little too eager to offer him. Most definitely spiked.

"I'm shocked."

Dick rolls his eyes and turns back to the kids. Disaster may be imminent, with the way Rose is dangling that string of tinsel back and forth in front of Gar's face as if it were a cat toy. Rachel swats her hand away just as Gar grins good-naturedly, snatching the end of the tinsel to toss around his neck as a scarf.

Dick stifles a laugh, grabbing for his phone when it vibrates in his back pocket. He doesn't recognize the number.

It might be spam. It might be important. Dick sighs and nods towards where the kids are arguing over who should climb on whose shoulders to get the tinsel above the windows, telling Kory, "I gotta take this. Keep an eye on that?"

"I'm all over it," Kory says, setting her own glass of eggnog down on the counter and striding over towards the tree. "Are you guys telling me there's not a ladder in this entire tower?"

Dick makes it out to the hallway before accepting the call. "Hello?"

"Dick? Thank god you answered, man."

"Jason?"

He's not going to say he's upset at Jason calling exactly. Maybe a little surprised.

They haven't spoken since Donna's funeral, and even that was just a nod across the tarmac, not really talking. Maybe Dick could've reached out sooner, maybe he should have. But he got the impression Jason wanted some time to himself, and after everything that had gone down, Dick thought he owed the kid that much.

He asks, "Everything okay?"

Because the only reason he can fathom Jason reaching out is that no, everything is not okay.

There's a faint laugh at the other end of the line. One of the anxious variety.

"I don't wanna pull you away if you're...busy or whatever," Jason says, a little distractedly. Wherever he is he's by himself, Dick doesn't pick up any background chatter or movement at the end of the line. "But I got a situation, I could use some backup."

"Yeah," Dick agrees without thinking. If Jason's actually reaching out it's important. "I don't know how quick I can get there. Where are you?"

"It's cool man, I'm actually in San Fran. I'm at a motel."

"You're in the city?"

And he's staying in a motel instead of just swinging by the tower? Dick was assuming Jason's standing invitation was understood unspoken, maybe he was wrong. Unless of course Jason would just rather be in a motel than around them. It's his decision. Doesn't mean Dick has to like it.

There's a muffled coughing fit at the end of the line, before a clattering noise and a distant _"Fuck."_ It sounds like he must've dropped the phone.

"Jason? What happened, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Jason says over an indistinct scuffling sound. "Look, I'll explain later, but I pissed some people off and I think they found me. D'you think you can get here?"

If Dick didn't know any better, he'd say that it's fear he detects in Jason's voice at the end of the question. It's the only thing that keeps him from making the joke at the end of his tongue, about how Jason seems to be good at pissing people off. 

"Yeah, text me the address. I'm on my way."

A sigh of relief. Then, "You might wanna bring a gas mask."

"What're you talking about?"

"It's coming through the vents," he explains, which isn't much of an explanation really. "I don't know what the shit is, but it's definitely in my lungs and I'm thinking that's bad."

"Yeah probably." Dick pulls the phone away from his ear when he gets the text notification. It looks like the address is about fifteen minutes away. He just hopes Jason has that long. "Sit tight. I'm headed to you."

He pokes his head into the sitting room, where it remains as cheerfully chaotic as it was when he stepped out. Dick catches Kory's eye and flags her over.

Since what happened last time, he's been trying to do better about keeping the kids in the loop. Letting them do more hands on work than training. That said, he hasn't seen them this genuinely happy and at peace in a very long time. It's something he's hesitant to take away unless he absolutely has to.

"What's going on?" Kory asks with a perceptive frown.

"Jason needs my help. I gotta go," he says quickly. "Can you keep the team on standby? I don't wanna worry anyone unless it comes to it."

"Well do you need backup?"

Dick frowns. He hadn't considered it.

It's not like he really has any idea what he's stepping into here, beyond that Jason's pissed some people off, and that those people are apparently enough to spook Jason into asking for help. But if they both leave, the kids will definitely know something's up. And besides, if it turns into something that dangerous, he'd rather they have Kory with them if they're going in to fight.

"I think I got it. I'll keep you updated."

* * *

It occurs to him when he gets there that Jason's text doesn't include a room number.

Turns out he doesn't need one. Dick spots the room with the door kicked in and the unconscious man half dangling out the window, and he figures he knows what room he can find Jason in.

Normally Dick would take a second to analyze the situation. As of right now his knowledge is extremely limited; he doesn't know how many people they're up against, or how armed. There's also the question of the gas. He's wearing a military grade mask just in case, but it's an unpredictable factor. Running in without a plan won't do anyone any favors, least of all Jason.

But he's standing in the parking lot calculating the best play when he hears Jason yell and he realizes the kid's not just spooked, he's fucking terrified, and Dick's feet are already moving without his mind's permission.

The air vents inside have some towels and blankets thrown haphazardly over them, Dick gets the impression Jason was just grabbing whatever was available. Clearly it didn't work. Most of the gas has already dissipated, but a low cloud of it hangs around the ground. Another unconscious body on the floor, with a blatantly broken leg--knees shouldn't bend like that--and a gas mask of his own.

Jason's voice is a frantic stream of "No, no no," punctuated by a marginally more coherent, "Back the fuck up! I'm not fucking with you man." Dick follows it to the motel bathroom.

He can't see past the three goons blocking the doorway to Jason, but it looks like he's managed to corner himself in there. He's probably armed, going by the way they keep moving forward as if to attack and then dodging back again.

Dick grabs the closest guy by the shoulders and throws him back into the room behind. This one's wearing a mask too, whatever they pumped into Jason's room clearly isn't something they want to mess around with themselves.

He breaks the guy's left ankle and throws him out the window with his buddy in record time. No doubt it's less than this asshole deserves, but Dick can hear the fight breaking out behind him and it doesn't sound like Jason's winning. There's a sharp cry of pain and then something metallic hitting tile floor. Dick turns. It's one of the goons twisting a switchblade out of Jason's hand.

The other stoops to pick it up off the ground with a comment about what a shit Jason is, raising the knife as if to strike with it. Dick moves before he can, snatching the guy's gas mask off his face as he flips him into the ground. When he realizes the mask is gone the guy immediately claps a hand over his nose, kicking a foot out at Dick's legs. Dick steps out of the way with ease.

A strangled noise from Jason draws his attention away. Goon number three has Jason's arm twisted around behind his back, pinning him to the wall. He whines, "Get the fuck off me!"

"Nuh-uh, you're coming with us," the guy growls. And Dick doesn't know how they know each other exactly, but Jason flinches at the words. Dick doesn't think he's ever actually seen Jason flinch before. "Boss wants to talk to you."

"Your boss is gonna be disappointed," Dick says, stepping in to break the guy's hold on Jason.

He hauls him away with enough force that he throws even himself off balance, and they both spill back out into the main room. Dick dodges one hit and then another, and then there's a window and he surges forward, knocking the guy down with a strike to the throat. A good firm stomp to the ribs for good measure once he's down.

Back in the bathroom, Jason's wrestling the thug without a gas mask. He's got the upper hand over this one at least, enough to slam the man's face into the bathroom mirror and drag it viciously across the broken glass.

"Jason."

He looks up at the sound of his name, but there's not a hint of recognition. In fact, there's nothing but fear in his expression. He drops the goon and stumbles backwards, tripping over the lip of the tub as he does and falling. Says, "Hell no. How'd you even find me?"

"You texted me, remember?"

On instinct he steps forward to help, freezing when Jason scrabbles away, until his back is pressed into the corner. His arms are up in a defensive position in front of him, and he snarls, "Stay the fuck back."

Suddenly Dick thinks he's got an idea what the gas is.

He feels a little like an idiot for not seeing it sooner, but in his defense, Crane's tech doesn't often make it outside of Gotham city limits. He's got no clue what it's doing out this far.

"Jason, it's me," Dick says, he hopes reassuringly. He crouches carefully down on the bathroom floor, so they're eye level, something made a little tougher by the body cluttering the space. "You called me."

"You're not-" he starts, cutting himself off with a frightened gasp when the man on the floor groans.

Dick tracks Jason's gaze, flitting back and forth between him and the doorway. Trying to calculate an escape route. Dick puts his hands up in a display of surrender and tries again, "Jason, it's me. It's Dick."

Jason's attention jerks abruptly back to him. "What did you do to him?"

Then he's eyeing the doorway again, and Dick glances uncertainly back over his shoulder.

There's no good play here as far as he can see. If he tries to trap Jason it's only going to make the fear worse, but if he lets the kid take off somebody could get hurt, including himself. The odds of Dick talking Jason into coming back to the tower for an antidote in this state, especially when he seems to think Dick is someone else, aren't exactly good.

Jason makes up Dick's mind for him.

He moves a little faster than Dick's anticipating, getting to his feet and practically vaulting around the guy on the floor. Slamming the bathroom door behind him, which only slows Dick down for a second but it's a second he can't afford to lose.

"Jason! Wait!"

They make it as far as the parking lot before Dick catches him with a hand on his wrist. The oncoming punch in response is at least predictable. He ducks.

And he'll apologize for grappling with the kid once they're someplace safe and Jason's not dosed with fear toxin. Until then, he does what he can to keep Jason from getting away without actually hurting him. Somehow that fight takes them to the ground, and when Dick has him pinned Jason says, "They said you were dead."

"Jason-"

He cringes at just the name. Clenches his jaw and says, "I won't let you hurt them again, alright?"

"Who do you think I am?"

"Quit playing fucking games with me," Jason answers, jerking his shoulders so hard that his head smacks audibly into the asphalt beneath him. He doesn't even seem to notice really, he just keeps squirming. Murmuring a string of swears, threats, and pleas to let him go.

Dick lets go with one hand, long enough to tear the gas mask off. And Jason stares right past him, so after a second's hesitation he peels the domino beneath away too. Says, just to get the point through, "Jason, it's _me."_

The panic in his eyes doesn't remotely begin to disappear, but Jason stills. "Dick?"

"Yeah, Jay."

"When did-" He glances sideways at the motel room, and the thrashing to escape resumes a second later. "No, no no. Where's Deathstroke?"

Dick frowns. "He was never here, Jason."

"But I...What the _fuck_ is happening? Let me up."

"Do you remember that gas you told me about over the phone?" Confusion dances across Jason's expression, and then he gives the slightest of nods. Although his attention is mostly preoccupied with anxiously looking back and forth across the parking lot. Dick says, "I think it was a fear toxin. Okay? Whatever you're seeing right now isn't real, you were drugged."

There's a brief second where he's foolish enough to think he's gotten through. Then Jason turns, panic-stricken, towards the other end of the lot. Says, "I wasn't drugged. He's here, man. I gotta-"

"-Calm down. Let me take you back to the tower, I can help."

It's the first instant Dick feels like Jason's really looking at him. And then the kid's brow twitches and he shrinks backwards, like he thinks he can disappear into the pavement somehow. He shakes his head and says, "This is fake. I'm seeing things, it's not-"

"It's not real," Dick confirms.

"Why would Dick ever wanna help me? I mean, this can't..." Jason scoffs. Or at least, Dick thinks he intends it to be a scoff. The only accurate word he can think to describe the noise it actually sounds like is desperate. "Who the fuck are you then? Let me the fuck up."

And the thought that Jason's more willing to believe that Deathstroke came back from the dead to finish the job than that Dick's actually here to help...yeah, that definitely stings. But it's not the priority right now. Jason is.

"Look, I'm sorry. I wasn't there for you before, but I am now," he insists. "I'm trying to help."

He's not getting anywhere with this. To top it off, the wail of a police siren appears in the distance and Jason recoils. He gives one last, vain attempt at pushing Dick away before whimpering pathetically, "Not the cops man, please. I can't be here, I can't--Anyone but the god damn cops. _Shit."_

As troubling as it is that Jason's fear of the police is what pushes through his distrust of Dick, it's also an opportunity. One that Dick leaps on, because he's not sure how else he's supposed to convince Jason to come back to the tower. Short of knocking him out and dragging him. He pulls back, allowing Jason to sit up.

Before the kid can take off, Dick offers a hand and says, "Let's go. Before they get here."

Jason swears once more under his breath, but he takes the hand and allows Dick to help him up. Follows him back to the car without a second's hesitation.

He climbs into the passenger seat of the car and watches for read and blue lights in the rearview like his life depends on it. Hell, he probably thinks it does.

* * *

The cops remain a sufficient distraction for just long enough to get Jason inside the tower. From there, everything goes back to shit.

Dick does what he can to sneak Jason into the med room without drawing too much attention from the others. Now all he has to do is a figure out a way to synthesize the antidote without Jason losing it again. Shouldn't be too much trouble.

He's still trying to talk Jason into laying down in bed when there's a light knock at the door. Dick barely has time to register the noise before Jason's fists are up, ready for an oncoming attack. He gestures for Jason to relax at the same time as glancing back at the door to say, "Not a good time."

"I know." It's Rachel. "I thought maybe I could help?"

"I dunno if that's--"

"Rachel?" Jason says, fists loosening ever so slightly. He glances around the room, shoulders hunched up. "Are we at the tower?"

"Yes. I drove you from the motel."

Jason cringes, and Dick knows why when Rachel appears at his side an instant later. At least she knows how to read a room, she stops out of arm's reach from Jason. A concerned frown pulling at her brow as she says, "What happened?"

"He was drugged with a fear toxin."

"Fear toxin?"

"It doesn't matter," Jason snarls, lunging a step forward but not actually following through in an attack. "You're all in trouble because of my fuckup. Again. I knew I shouldn't've--You have to let me leave."

"Just stay long enough for me to synthesize the antidote," Dick says, sidestepping to block the path to the door when Jason moves to leave.

"Get outta the way."

"I can keep him here," Rachel volunteers. "While you get the antidote."

"No," Dick and Jason say in unison, with varying degrees of emotion.

Rachel quirks an eyebrow at him, then turns back to look at Jason. She takes a half a step nearer, and both Dick and Jason tense. Dick says in warning, "Rachel don't."

It's not that he thinks Jason wants to hurt her, obviously. But the toxin creates hallucinations, altered mental states, it's unpredictable at best. She extends a hand towards Jason anyway, saying, "I'm still working on in, but I think I can help you. Will you let me? Please?"

Jason shakes his head, backing away until there's nowhere left to go, despite her staying in one place. His back collides with the window and he whirls around to look, and he must not like what he sees because then he's running from it. Whether it's his intention or not Dick can't tell, but he runs right into Rachel's arms.

She stumbles back a couple of steps with the force of the collision, and Dick's already tensing to step in, just in case. But Rachel gestures for him to stay back and he finds himself listening.

"Let me go! Let me fucking go!" Jason snaps as he tries first to tear himself away, and then to shove her off. Rachel doesn't let go, and when he can't break free he freezes. Then, tentatively, his hands come up to wrap around her shoulders. His face is hidden in the neck of her sweater, but Dick hears him sob quietly, "Let me go, let me go."

For all his asking to be let go, it looks like he's clinging to Rachel like a lifeline.

"It's okay," Rachel says, bringing one hand up to card through his hair. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"I can't--I can't stop it. I can never stop it."

Rachel hushes him reassuringly, and for the time being Jason actually quiets. She sends a look back over her shoulder at Dick, telling him, "I've got this. Go, get whatever you need to help him."

He's a little hesitant to leave either of them. Just because Jason's not lashing out right now doesn't mean he won't. But then, Rachel's proven herself nothing if not capable. And the risk factor's going to stick around until he goes to get that antidote.

He gives a slight nod. "I'll be just down the hall. If he gets worse come get me."

* * *

Suffice to say, he gets worse.

The antidote is going to take about an hour to synthesize, but when he can Dick doubles back to the med room to check in and give Rachel and Jason an update. Gar's loitering uncertainly outside the door to the med room, a frown etched into his brow. When he spots Dick his expression lightens a little, as he half sprints to meet him halfway. Saying, "What's going on? Is Jason okay?"

"He's gonna be fine," Dick says with a nod. He checks his watch and concludes, "In about half an hour."

"What's in half an hour?"

"The antidote'll be ready. Until then, I know you're worried, but maybe you should stay out here."

"Maybe I can help," Gar says hopefully. And it must show on Dick's face that he's about to shut that down, because Gar's quick to add, "Come on, please. He's my friend, there's gotta be something I can do. Look I brought him eggnog, of the unspiked variety."

He holds up a glass with a pleading look.

Dick sighs. "We'll see if Rachel needs any help. She's keeping him calm right now."

"Thank you."

Gar follows him back down the hall towards the med room. He knocks once, lightly so as not to startle Jason. There's some hushed voices through the door, and then he hears Rachel saying, "Come in."

"Gar's here too," Dick says, stepping inside slowly.

Jason and Rachel are sitting on the floor. She's holding one of his hands with both of hers, and it looks like it's the only thing keeping him from jumping up when the door opens. At least the terror in his eyes seems to have dissipated, just a little.

"The antidote?" Rachel asks calmly.

"Another half hour. How's he doing?"

"I can hear you," Jason snaps impatiently.

Dick amends, "How're you doing?"

Jason bristles but something makes him pull back. He takes in a deep breath, nods and says tiredly, "Rach says I'm hallucinating."

The door creeks a little when Gar steps in behind Dick, and Jason jumps. But when he glances towards the noise he's on his feet in an instant, letting go of Rachel's hand in favor of running to Gar. Glancing back at Rachel, he asks, "He's real, right?"

Rachel nods.

"Of course I'm rea-" Gar cuts off abruptly as Jason throws his arms around his neck, the sort of hug you only see at hospitals or airports. The kid looks confused, but Gar brings his empty hand up to pat Jason's back. Saying, "I'm here, buddy."

"I saw you die," Jason says, shuddering.

"Pretty sure I'm alive."

Rachel gets up off the floor and starts over towards them. When Jason flinches once more, Dick thinks he gets an impression why. Whatever power she's using to keep him calm, it only works if she has contact. He just let go of his only anchor.

She doesn't get back to him in time.

There's a noise or something outside that draws his attention away, and he pulls away from the hug as suddenly as he'd initiated it. In doing so, he knocks the glass Gar was holding out of his hand. The glass shatters and Jason reacts like it's a fucking grenade. Shrinking away from Gar and shielding his face behind his forearms, like he's expecting a strike.

He shakes his head behind his arms, saying, "I'm sorry. It was an accident, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," Gar starts, reaching a hand out to comfort him. Jason's eyes squeeze shut, his shoulders tensing, and Gar pulls his hand back to his side like he's been burned. "Jason?"

"Please," Jason says, making no move to get up from the floor but shuffling back another step. "I'm sorry. Sorry. Please."

Seeing Jason like this hurts, and it's not made better by the overwhelming guilt in Gar's expression. Dick gestures for him to step back, at the same time saying, "He thinks you're someone else. It's not you he's scared of, Gar."

He doesn't know who Jason could think Gar is. When it was faceless goons his fear reaction was to kick their asses, even when he thought Dick was Deathstroke he wasn't shrinking away like this.

Rachel steps tentatively in, palms in front of her to show she's not a threat. She crouches down in front of him, gently moving his arms away from his face. As she does Dick sees her expression shift. The careful mask of reassurance flickers to a fear of her own.

She sighs and says softly, "He's not here, Jason. It's okay, you're safe."

Eyes still closed, Jason shakes his head. He takes in a trembling breath, says, "He's gonna be mad. He's always mad, even if--No, no no. Shit. Sorry. I'm sorry, alright?"

"Why don't you and Gar go check on that antidote?" Rachel suggest, glancing back at them. Dick takes the cue and nods, indicating for Gar to follow him. As they slip back out into the hall, he just catches her encouraging gently, "Your dad's not here, Jason. It's okay."

* * *

It's probably normal for kids to be up early on Christmas morning.

It's less normal for those kids to have spent the night before trying to keep their friend calm after he was dosed by a drug designed to induce crippling terror. Dick's expecting his family to sleep in a little.

He swings by Jason's room first thing, just to check on him. Suffice to say, he's a little more worried than usual after last night. Not to mention half afraid Jason will have slipped off in the middle of the night. After all, things had to get to this before he was even willing to call. It's a shocking relief to find the kid sound asleep in bed.

A little more shocking to find a tiger sleeping at the foot of said bed.

Gar lifts his head when the door opens, blinking sleepily. Dick asks, "What're you doing in here?"

As if to answer, Gar sends a glance behind him at Jason.

"You didn't want him to wake up alone," Dick says in understanding. Of course not. The antidote might've gotten rid of the fear, but some of the effects might linger. And most people who've been dosed don't tend to remember things clearly coming out of it. He might be confused to wake up in the tower at all. With a light chuckle, Dick says, "That's a nice thought, but what were you gonna say if he woke up?"

In answer, Gar huffs and flicks his tail.

"Okay tough guy," Dick concedes. "I'm gonna start breakfast. Hungry?"

He knows tigers can't purr, he's gotten three lectures to that end from Gar, but he's pretty sure the noise the kid makes is a purr. Before he ducks back out, Dick says, "Alright. Keep an eye on our boy."

* * *

Everyone's awake and stumbling into the kitchen before Dick's done cooking. And by everyone, he means everyone.

Kory's been up the longest, aside from him. She helped him mix the pancake batter, and listened with more sympathy than he honestly deserves to all his worries regarding Jason. And the major question as to what the hell fear toxin is even doing as far as San Francisco in the first place. He's hoping Jason's going to have some answers, he clearly knows more about these people than they want him to.

They stop talking shop when Rose stumbles into the kitchen to steal Dick's coffee cup and complain about their cereal selection. Rachel's up next, wordlessly stepping in to flip one of the aforementioned pancakes when Dick doesn't notice it's burning.

Jason and Gar show up together.

It occurs to him they're crowded little kitchen might be overwhelming for someone with last night's experience weighing on their mind, but Jason sits down at the kitchen island without acknowledging any of the concerned looks just about everyone's giving him. The silence hangs a second until Dick clears his throat and asks, "How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I should've," Jason says. "For a guy who wasn't aware he was sharing a bed with a tiger."

Gar flashes him a grin as he slides a fresh glass of orange juice across the counter to him, answering, "You're welcome."

"Heard you had a shitty night," Rose remarks loftily, dropping onto the stool next to him.

"I don't really remember it. It's pretty hazy," he says, getting up and moving to sit at the other end of the counter instead. Whether it's the tense quiet or he just feels all the eyes looking at him and then quickly looking away, Jason looks up at them and sighs. Says, "Did I do something embarrassing or...What, did you all find out I'm scared of clowns or some bullshit like that? Because you can laugh."

"You're scared of clowns?" Rose asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"Shut up."

Rachel frowns, pushing herself up to sit on top of the counter over by Rose. She answers delicately, "It wasn't like that, exactly."

"Then what was it like, exactly?"

Kory catches Dick's eye and offers a curious frown. He was aware of the possibility Jason wouldn't remember, but he wasn't ready for Jason to actually want to revisit it. When he comes up short, Kory walks over to Jason and offers, "I wasn't there, but from what I hear you dealt with it with remarkable bravery."

"She's right," Dick says. "You held off five men on your own until I got there, that's tough to do when you've been dosed with the toxin."

"Okay, but that's not why I woke up to the world's weirdest guard dog this morning. And it's definitely not why she," Jason says, indicating Rachel with a point and a nod. "Is looking at me like I'm fucking broken. So what did I do?"

"I don't think you're broken," Rachel says quickly.

It doesn't look like Jason's going to give it up that easily, and he'd rather not have those two getting into their old fights again already. With a sigh, Dick says, matter of fact, "You were seeing things. One of those things happened to be your dad."

Anger flashes quickly across Jason's face, but it quickly transitions into resignation, and then a mask of disinterest. He forces a laugh, says, "That's it?"

"You never mentioned him," Rose says, leaning forward with something in between curiosity and compassion.

"Yeah, 'cause it's none of your fucking business," Jason says, before he seems to remember everyone else in the room and reins it back in. He turns pointedly away from Rose and says with a casual shrug, "It doesn't have to be a whole thing. It's not a thing, I wasn't thinking straight so..."

Dick wonders just how long Jason's been sweeping this one under the rug. "Does Bruce know?"

"No," which really only means Jason didn't tell him. There's no way of knowing what Bruce knows. But Jason continues, "There's nothing to know. He's not going to know. It's not a big deal. Don't say anything to him, bro."

"If it's not a big deal why can't I tell Bruce?"

Jason just glares for a second, but he doesn't quite manage to hold back the outburst. Slamming a fist into the counter and then wincing at the impact, he snaps, "Dammit, Dick!"

"Hey," Gar says, reaching a tentative hand out for Jason's shoulder. "It's okay."

"No it's not," Jason says, shrugging Gar's hand away as he paces away from the island.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I told you he was an asshole. That's not enough?"

"Yeah, you told me he was an asshole," Dick says. "You didn't say he-"

He trails off, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. The best setting for this conversation probably isn't in front of the whole team. And he really can't be mad at Jason for not telling him, it's not like it's any of his business. It's not like he made any significant effort to be brothers with Jason before everything went down with Deathstroke. Of course Jason doesn't tell him things.

"What? That he was a drunk? That he hit me," Jason says with a derisive scoff. "You can say it man, I'm not embarrassed."

Rose hums skeptically. "Then why keep it a secret?"

"Because of fucking _this,"_ Jason says, gesturing vaguely in everyone's direction. "You're already treating me different. I'm not some fragile little kid, you guys. And I don't want your fucking pity."

"It's not pity," Rachel tells him, and he just groans in annoyance and turns his back to them.

He takes a few more steps away before turning. Walking back and forth a few times, just for something to do Dick imagines. And then he rounds on them with an aggravated huff.

"I mean, why does it even matter? Rachels' dad is an interdimensional space demon that tried to take over the universe. Rose's dad tried to fucking kill me, and all of you," Jason says, looking back and forth between their faces, like he's searching for something in their expressions. "I mean, so what if mine was a little crabby a few beers in? So fucking what?"

"It's not a competition," Rachel says gently. "And you didn't deserve that."

"She's right," Rose affirms with a nod.

Whatever Jason's searching for from them, it clearly isn't that. He starts to answer before he cuts himself off, frowning momentarily down at the floors. After a second he shakes his head and says, "Whatever. I'm out of here."

He hasn't made it more than a few steps before Dick moves to follow after him, but Kory stops him with a hand at his shoulder. Says, "Just give him some space."

He really wants to argue but he knows she's right. Besides, it doesn't look like Jason's headed for the elevator, which at least means he's staying in the tower for now. Dick sighs and takes her advice.

* * *

After breakfast Dick finds Jason just about where he expects. In the training room.

it looks like Rachel had the same idea. Where Dick's expecting to find Jason letting off some steam with the heavy bag, he instead finds the both of them talking quietly. Surprisingly calmly. And whatever Rachel has to say seems to be working better than anything Dick could think of, so he actually turns to leave. Except that Jason's voice stops him, "I can hear you in the hallway, dude."

"Just thought I'd check up on you," Dick says, relenting and stepping into the room. "Guess I wasn't the only one."

Rachel nods in greeting.

"She's just catching me up on what happened while I was out of it," Jason says, folding his arms. "So I can know if there's any other secrets I let slip."

"You keeping a lot more?"

"It'd be pretty damn hypocritical if you told me not to."

"Fair enough," Dick concedes. "Can we talk?"

For whatever reason, Jason assumes he wants to talk about the motel and not Jason's wellbeing. Or maybe he's just deflecting from having to talk about his well being. Either way, Jason dives right in, saying, "You wanna know what those guys wanted, right? I was tackling this drug ring back in Gotham and they must've followed me here somehow. I thought I took them all out, but I guess--"

"Hold on, drug ring?"

"Yeah."

"The guy who designed that fear toxin is working with drug dealers?" Rachel says, eyes widening.

"Not after I find him he's not," Jason says easily.

Dick frowns, something dawning on him. He says, "Wait, they followed you here. That means you were in San Francisco for a different reason."

Rachel winces slightly at the question. Whether that's because Jason's already told her the answer, or because she's anticipating another argument isn't clear.

"Well yeah," Jason says, rocking back on his heels. "I was coming to ask your help with it."

That's a lie if Dick ever heard one. For one thing, Jason can't hold eye contact when he says it. For another, if it were true he would've just called. There's no reason to come all the way to San Francisco for that. And more importantly, "You just said you thought you took them all out."

"The ones who knew I was onto them," Jason amends. "Duh."

"Alright. The truth now, please," Dick says flatly.

"That is the truth."

"Really? Then why don't I believe you?"

Rachel rolls her eyes, nudging Jason with her elbow and saying, "Just tell him, Jason."

"I'm real glad you had fun poking around my thoughts last night," Jason says through gritted teeth. "But keep it to your damn self, alright?"

"These people are clearly dangerous, and you brought them here," Dick says, earning an affronted look from Rachel but pressing on nonetheless, "If there's something we need to know, you need to tell me."

The look Jason shoots across at Rachel seems disturbingly close to an I-told-you-so. Then he shoulders past Dick towards the door with a parting, "Fuck you, man."

"What was that?" Rachel says, gazing over Dick's shoulder at the door before turning back to him. "I thought you were here to check on him."

"I was," he says, passing a tired hand over his face. "But he's lying about something, and I need to know it's not something that's going to put everyone else in this tower in danger. Or him, for that matter."

"He's not keeping secrets like that."

Dick raises a skeptical eyebrow. "You wanna tell me what he's really doing in San Francisco then?"

Rachel sends one last look past him at the door hanging half open, then gives a weary sigh and says pointedly, "No one likes to be alone on Christmas, Dick."

Alright yeah, he wasn't expecting her to say that.

Probably because it doesn't make any sense. "Then why didn't he call until he was in trouble, Rachel?"

"I think he was worried we wouldn't want him around."

"Jason's welcome at the tower anytime, he knows that."

"No, Dick. You know that," Rachel says. "But Jason doesn't know how worried you were last night, he doesn't know you still keep the kitchen stocked with that weird soup he likes, just in case. He never actually gets to _see_ you caring, Dick, you do it all when he's not looking."

The instant she says it, he remembers Jason, frightened on the parking lot asphalt, insisting the real Dick wouldn't've wanted to help him. And he knows she's right. Dammit, she's right.

He doesn't like to think about Jason coming all the way back to the city only not to call. Spending the holiday alone in that shitty motel rooms because they've all convinced him he's not worth having around. He doesn't even want to know what would've happened if Jason didn't call at all. How long would it have taken him to even realize the kid was in trouble?

"I gotta go talk to him," Dick says, already heading for the door. He pauses a second to add, "And Rachel?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

She gives him the faintest hint of a smile. "Sure."

* * *

"Are you fucking following me or something?"

Dick finds Jason up on the roof, sitting on the ground with his back to the wall just beside the roof access door. It's a more than safe distance away from the ledge, but the reminder of the last time they were up here together isn't exactly a comforting one.

"What're you doing up here?" Dick asks, instead of answering the obvious. Of course he's following him.

Jason doesn't bother turning to look at him, eyes fixed on the city line sprawled out before them. Says, "You can relax. I just wanted some space to think. Thought no one would bug me up here. Guess that was dumb."

"Well bugging people who don't wanna be bugged is actually my superpower."

"Must be a new one," Jason remarks dryly. "Last I checked, you were better at not giving a shit."

"Jason-"

"I preferred it that way."

Which wouldn't be all that convincing even without everything else that's happened this morning.

Dick walks a little further out onto the roof before sitting down a short distance away. The kid doesn't outwardly show any signs he even sees Dick there, but at least he's not leaving yet. As long as he's staying he's willing to talk, whether or not he wants to admit that out loud.

Except as eager as Dick was to clear things up, he'll admit he's not totally sure how to broach the subject.

After a minute of just sitting there in quiet, the best he comes up with is, "You know you're worth keeping around, right Jay?"

It comes out a little less subtle than he intends, but whatever gets them talking.

Talking might be a little generous. Jason finally looks over to acknowledge him, but it's just to glare. "Look, I don't know what Rachel said to you bro, but--"

"It's not about what Rachel said," Dick interrupts, shaking his head. "It's about what I should have."

"Alright," Jason says, with a look on his face like a kid trying to swallow cough syrup. "Let's hear it."

Right.

"There was a lot going on when you left. I guess I thought you wanted to be left alone," he explains, inching a little closer.

Jason shrugs, resting his head against the wall behind him. Absently watching a plane fly by overhead as he answers without conviction, "I did."

"Look, I took off on Bruce more times than I can count. And at the time I always thought the same thing, that I needed to be left alone, that it was better for everyone if I was on my own," he says. It was true the first time he ran away as a kid, and maybe it was true when he left for Detroit too. But it's more honestly than he was planning on going into this conversation with when he continues, "But maybe what I really wanted was to know someone wanted me to stay, y'know? That I was worth coming after."

With an impatient huff, Jason asks, "What're you trying to say man?"

"That I'm sorry. I should've reached out. Whatever your real reason for being in the city," Dick says. "It shouldn't've taken fear toxin for us to talk. So I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he says dismissively. "It's a two way street bro."

"Yeah, but still."

Jason's fingers drum with nervous energy against the concrete at his side. "If this is you feeling bad for me 'cause of what happened last night, I don't want it. Alright?"

Dick gives a thoughtful hum.

Saying he doesn't feel bad for Jason would be a lie, sure. Last night shouldn't have happened. Dick should've made it clearer that Jason could come to them with anything, and then it wouldn't have taken things getting this far for him to reach out.

And he already knew Jason's life hasn't been exactly easy. Aside from all of that, having that put out in the open against your will has to suck. Having his worst fears put on display like that, and having no control over it, not even remembering what you might have given away? Yeah, that's a pretty shitty night, even by their standards.

There is something else he can say.

"I don't feel bad for you," Dick says simply, leaning back on his hands. "Hell, I think you're tougher than ever."

"I can smell your bullshit from here, dude."

"No, I mean it. Jason, you fought off five trained men on your own even after breathing the toxin. Two of them were already out by the time I got to you."

Jason scoffs. "Pretty sure it was them or me. Not that impressive."

Easy for Jason to say, he probably hasn't seen nearly as much about what fear toxin can do to a person, not up close. Shaking his head, Dick argues, "In most people the toxin is debilitating. They drugged you with it because they wanted to cripple you, get the upper hand in battle."

"Didn't work," he mumbles bitterly.

"Exactly," Dick agrees. "You channeled the fear into fight. Most people can't, not with the toxin at least."

In this case, maybe growing up on the streets in the worst parts of Gotham City was a good thing. Jason certainly would've had to get used to dealing with being afraid. That shouldn't come as a surprise, he only wound up here today because he was fearless enough to try and take the tires off the god damn Batmobile.

Jason's posture straightens with muted pride. "Really?"

"Yeah man," Dick says, chuckling. "You're kind of a badass."

"Thanks." There's a hint of a smile on his face, however fleeting. Then he sighs, averting his gaze to the pavement in front of him to say, "But lately, I dunno, it hasn't felt like it."

At least he's saying it, that's progress. Maybe Dick's getting through here.

He nods and says, "I don't know if you remember, but when I got to you last night and you thought I was Deathstroke, there was something interesting you said to me."

Jason gives a weary sigh. "C'mon, I was fucking drugged. You can't use whatever I said against me man, it's not fair."

He plays it off like he's joking, but Dick can see the building dread in his expression. That whatever he might have said to Slade Wilson is another secret he might have let slip, some other ghost he's not prepared to face with the rest of the team watching.

"You said," Dick says patiently. "'I won't let you hurt them again.' You threatened me."

"I didn't think it was you."

"You were afraid for your life," he agrees easily. Jason shifts, uncomfortable with the agreement. Or with not knowing where Dick's going with this. He says, "And your priority was protecting us."

It's meant as praise.

Facing down one of his worst fears, Jason wasn't focused on himself, he wanted to fight for them. And with everything Dick's been realizing in the past twenty four hours, he's starting to think maybe they haven't earned that. At the very least he hasn't. But Jason didn't care, he was willing to put himself between them and what he thought was the mercenary that nearly took them out.

Jason looks like he's taking it as an accusation. He argues defensively, "Not for you. I just fucking hate that guy."

"Whatever you say."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Agreeing with me," Jason says, like the very notion is offensive. "Being nice to me. Stop it. You didn't have any interest before I got fucking drugged, and I don't need your pity now. I can take care of myself, alright?"

"No."

There's a second where the anger in Jason's expression falters, replaced with either shock or confusion. With a huff he challenges, "What do you mean no?"

"I mean no," Dick repeats with a shrug. "I live with three teenagers. You really think I'm gonna stop caring just because you yell at me?"

"You're kind of supposed to."

Because that's how this usually goes, Dick realizes.

"Look, I should've been there before," he admits. There's a whole list of excuses for reasons he wasn't, but at the end of the day he wasn't. "But I'm not giving up on you now, and I'm not backing off no matter how hard you try to push me away. So you might as well save yourself the effort, 'cause you're stuck with me."

Jason starts to answer, arguing on autopilot almost. Then he cuts himself off, looking away in what Dick's going to let him think is a subtle attempt to hide the tears building up in his eyes.

"Don't you have your hands full here? Besides, I don't need another fucking foster parent, Dick."

"How about a brother?"

There's a second's hesitation, and then Jason moves and for a second Dick thinks he's going to leave. That is, until there's a pair of arms thrown over his shoulders, and he finds himself caught in a hug that almost knocks the wind right out of him. Once he realizes what's happening, he brings his own arms up to return the embrace. A little stiffly at first, mostly out of surprise, but then he's rubbing reassuring circles over the kid's shoulder blades.

He thinks back to the day in the tower when Jason had tried to pick a fight with him, and he'd knocked the kid to the ground on instinct alone. And he wonders how different things could've been if he'd just done this instead.

With a breath of a laugh, Dick says, "I'll take that as a yes."

"Tell anyone about this and I'll end you," Jason says into his shoulder, threat muffled by the neck of Dick's sweatshirt. The effect is lessened, also, by the way Jason squeezes him tighter as he says it instead of letting go.

He nods and holds on tight, despite the chill of the concrete beginning to bite into his ankles. Dick's not the biggest hugger these days, but with one like this, he doesn't want to be the first person to let go. With these kids, this family, he decides he's never going to be the one that lets go. Not ever.

When Jason does finally pull away, Dick gets to his feet and holds a hand out to help Jason up. Jason smacks it away as Dick says, "Why don't you come inside? We're introducing Kory to the best Christmas movie of all time."

Getting to his feet and brushing some dirt off the leg of his pants, Jason asks, "Oh yeah? What movie is that?"

"Die Hard," Dick says, matter of fact.

"Awesome." Jason finally cracks a grin that doesn't fade away. "I'm in."

**Author's Note:**

> there's a longer version of this fic in my head that involves blanket forts and rose gifting jason with a t-shirt that's got the phrase 'bad dad club' scrawled onto it in sharpie (her and rachel have matching ones, obviously) but it just didn't make the cut :/
> 
> thanks for reading! i definitely have a lot of mixed opinions about titans now i've binged the series, but one thing it for sure did right is the Found Family Dynamic™


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